


The Lost Boys

by casfallsinlove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9.07 coda, M/M, Sort of AU, based on canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casfallsinlove/pseuds/casfallsinlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has only been at Sonny's for two weeks when the new guy arrives. Castiel. He's a pretty weird kid, with a pretty weird name to go with it. </p>
<p>(In which Castiel comes to stay at Sonny's too and he and Dean build forts and read books and are BFFs, basically.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lost Boys

**Author's Note:**

> Also on [tumblr](http://casfallsinlove.tumblr.com).
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Dean has only been at Sonny's for two weeks when the new guy arrives.  _Castiel_. He's a pretty weird kid, with a pretty weird name to go with it. 

For starters, he does a lot of staring. At Dean. All the time. It's starting to give him a complex and he's itching to burst out, "Do I have something on my face?" but every time he meets Castiel's eyes, the other boy looks away. 

Then there's the endless reading the kid does. He arrived with only one backpack and in it had been a miniature library. A few clothes and games, even fewer personal items, but mostly books. Dean had actually been a bit jealous--whatever books he'd managed to get his hands on usually had to be left behind. According to Dad, "if it's not lore, there's no room for it in the trunk".

So after some firm encouragement from Sonny to try "bonding with his peers" (yeah, like that's ever worked out before), Dean walks over to Castiel, a few beds down from his own at the end of the row, and asks loudly, "Hey, whatcha reading?"

Not the best conversation opener, and definitely unexpected if Castiel's wide-eyed horror is anything to go by, but Dean sticks with it. 

"To Kill A Mockingbird," he eventually mutters, holding the book up for Dean to inspect the cover. 

"Ah, cool."

Once again Castiel looks surprised. "You know it?"

"Yeah, read it coupla years back."

And so begins the greatest friendship Dean's ever had. Within a week he and Castiel are inseparable, lending each other books and playing hide-and-go-seek around the farm, getting muddy and filthy splashing around in the duck pond and driving Sonny up the wall every time they return with grass-stained knees. 

Castiel doesn't talk much, and he smiles even less, but when Dean does manage to engage him in conversation he's sharp and intelligent, and he shows his amusement in his eyes rather than his mouth. Dean finds it weirdly kinda cute, actually, and makes it his personal mission in life to get a full-blown grin outta the guy one of these days. 

Cas is in most of Dean's classes at school and they help each other with homework and pass notes in lessons, covering whispers behind their hands so they don't get caught. Dean's had enough of being 'a disruptive student who could perform well if only he put his mind to it' and actually decides to put his mind to it for once, even going so far as to try out for the wrestling team when Cas shoves the flyer under his nose one lunchtime. 

One month turns into two, and Dean's happier than he's been in his entire life. It's jarring to admit actually, and it's not like his days are perfect, but he has Sonny and Cas and friends at school and at the home. He misses Sammy constantly; the ache of separation comes in painful waves, and he spends hours telling Cas all about his little brother, but knows that Sam is okay at Bobby's. Sonny lets Dean use the phone whenever he wants, even though he must be racking up his bill with all the calls he's making to Sioux Falls.

One sunny Saturday afternoon and they're in the back field near the woods, building a fairly impressive fort just a short ways from the duck pond, when it occurs to Dean that he doesn't actually know anything about Cas. Sure, he knows that his best friend likes tea and reading and saying fancy long words and wearing Dean's fleece and history and the school cafeteria fries and origami and watching but never partaking in wrestling and waking up at the asscrack of dawn on weekends--but he doesn't actually know how Cas came to be here. What his family situation is, or lack thereof. Dean's told him all about Dad and Sam under the cover of moonlight when they've snuck out through the jimmied window after lights out, but the sob story has never been reciprocated. 

"Hey, Cas?" he calls from his horizontal position in the long grass, while Cas scurries around gathering the longest branches he can find for their fort. 

"Yes, Dean?"

"How come you're here?"

Cas pauses, bent over at the waist as his long fingers pluck a branch from the ground. He turns his head ninety degrees, a familiar frown creasing his forehead. 

"You asked me to build a fort with you...?" he begins uncertainly. 

Rolling his eyes, Dean pushes into a sitting position. "No, you dork. I meant how'd you end up here at Sonny's? You've never told me."

And that definitely gets a reaction. Cas's face flushes red, his eyes clouding as he puts those barriers up that Dean worked so hard to take down. "No, I don't suppose I have," he mutters, but his back is to Dean now and he clutches the armful of sticks close to his chest. 

"Hey, man, it's cool if you don't wanna say," Dean says, because despite belief he's not an asshole and while he thought they told each other everything, it's clear this isn't something Cas wants to talk about. 

There's silence while Cas clearly contemplates how to respond, his face all screwed up in turmoil, so Dean takes pity and says, "How about we finish the fort first?" 

Cas nods, looking relieved, and Dean hauls his lazy ass off the ground and sets about helping. By the end of the afternoon they've constructed a pretty decent hideout with old wooden planks, sticks, and a couple of hay bales they 'acquired' from the barn. It's just about big enough for them both to sit upright in, and the hay muffles their conversations well from outside ears. 

"Dude, this is awesome," Dean declares, and if he was ten years younger he'd have been tempted to stick a flag in the top. 

"You're very good with your hands," Cas comments, blushing when Dean snorts and wiggles his fingers suggestively. 

After a brief game of rock paper scissors, Cas runs back to the house to ask Sonny if they can eat dinner outside. Dean doesn't hold out much hope--Sonny's all for big family meals with all the boys--but to his surprise Cas comes back ten minutes later with a plate of sandwiches and two juice boxes. 

"How'd you score those?"

A muscle in Cas's jaw ticks in amusement. "Sonny likes me."

They settle down on the blanket and divide up the sandwiches between them, chewing happily. Then Cas blurts out, "I attacked somebody."

Dean, mid-swallow, chokes painfully. "What?" he rasps, while Cas thumps him on the back.

"I attacked somebody. And by somebody I mean my classmate. And by attacked I mean gave two black eyes, a broken jaw, and a sprained wrist."

Goggling at his friend, because that is the last thing Dean ever expected to hear, he says, " _Why_?"

Cas sighs. "The boy was a bully. I could handle it, but when I saw him picking on the smaller children, I just snapped. The deputy sheriff, the principal and my father decided that it would be 'beneficial' for me to spend some time here. As well as transfer me to the local high school."

The injustice stings like gravel in Dean's face. "For taking down a bully? Are you kidding me? They should be giving you medals!"

Cas's small smile is wry and he picks at the crust on his sandwich. "It wasn't just that. I... I don't have a very good relationship with my father. He is away a lot, and we have very different ideas over what I should be doing with my life. I imagine I was not the easiest child to care for."

"Dude, even so. Jeez. What about your mom?"

The adams apple in Cas's throat bobs. "She died a long time ago."

Dean nods. "Same here."

They lapse into silence again, but Dean's too stunned by the revelation to eat. Cas is a force to be reckoned with, yeah; stubborn as all hell and sulky when he's pissed off about something. But violent? Dean would never have thought he'd have it in him. The guy's the biggest pacifist he's ever met--one of those types who gets stung by a bee and then feels guilty and remorseful when the bee dies. He's like Sam. 

"My dad said I could 'rot in jail' when I got busted," he confesses, the words slipping out without permission. It's one of the few things, along with the whole 'oh yeah, we hunt monsters', that he hasn't told Cas. "So I guess we both crapped out on the father front, huh?"

Cas's eyes are piercing and blue as they snap to Dean's face, lingering far longer than necessary. "Yes," he mutters eventually. "I guess we did."

"But hey," Dean counters brightly, because he's not good at all this emotional shit. "Could be worse. We're here, we got an awesome fort... I'm glad you're around, Cas."

Cas smiles one of his real smiles; barely there, just enough to crinkle the corner of his eyes and show a little teeth. "I'm glad you're around too, Dean."

And he looks so freaking happy about it, like he honestly can't think of anywhere else he'd rather be than with Dean in some hastily built, precariously wobbly construction that smells a bit like cow poop, and there's only one thing in the world Dean wants to do. 

So he does it.

The first touch of his lips against Cas's is a little off-centre, a little too hard, a little awkward. Their noses bump and Dean's hand is sort of uncomfortably trapped between them, and when he pulls back he can feel the tips of his ears burning. 

Cas is bright red, staring at Dean in shock. They don't speak for a minute. Then Dean, who can still feel his lips tingling, clears his throat and asks, "Can we try that again?"

And Cas, still dumbstruck, nods. 

It's all the permission Dean needs, but this time he's more careful about it. The previously trapped hand comes up to touch Cas's jaw, to run a thumb across his cheekbone, to gently catch his bottom lip. 

Shifting, Dean gets as close as he can. When he leans in, they're practically chest-to-chest and he can feel the heat radiating from Cas's body, and when a warm hand tentatively lands on his shoulder, he shivers and tilts his head forward. 

"Dean," Cas whispers, lips so close Dean can feel his nervous little puffs of breath. 

"Yeah," Dean agrees, then closes that remaining gap. 

This kiss is much better. Far more coordinated, longer and deeper, and really Dean has no idea what he's doing (he's kissed like two girls ever) but it's kinda awesome anyway. 

When Cas's hand finds the back of his neck, nails scraping lightly through the short hair there, Dean summons the courage to gently run his tongue over Cas's closed lips. 

Straight away Cas opens his mouth, his own tongue joining the party (a little sloppily, but Dean ain't complaining), and he makes this small, soft noise in the back of his throat. 

Eventually they end up horizontal on the blanket, Dean leaning over Cas as they keep kissing. They don't take it any further, because jesus neither of them are ready for  _that_ , but Dean can't be blamed if his fingers trace the hard lines of Cas's t-shirt clad chest, all the way up to his disastrous mop of hair. 

When they finally part, breathing hard, lips reddened and swollen, Cas says quietly, "I like doing that with you."

Dean laughs and collapses beside him, finding Cas's hand between their bodies and holding it tightly. "Yeah, man, me too."

It's starting to get darker outside now, the setting sun casting pink and orange streaks in the dusky sky. They catch their breath for a while, content to just lay there, until Cas makes a sound that could be a chuckle. "I've never kissed anybody before."

"I've never kissed a boy before. Wanted to a coupla times, but... my dad..." he trails off, shaking his head. It's okay. Cas understands. In fact, his grip on Dean's hand gets harder. 

"What about when one of us leaves?" he asks, so softly Dean nearly doesn't catch it. He almost wishes he hadn't. 

"Don't," he says sharply, twisting his head to look at Cas. He's greeted with a pair of apprehensive blue eyes. "Stop it, Cas. Yeah, okay, chances are we're gonna be split up before long. But you're gonna be seventeen in like... two months, right? And then you'll be eighteen next year. And in a year and a half, _I'll_ be eighteen."

"I don't see where you're going with this."

"What I'm sayin' is, as soon as we're eighteen, there ain't gonna be nobody who can stop us. We'll run away. Live in Sioux Falls near my Uncle Bobby, or... or maybe someplace else. It doesn't matter where, s'long as we're together, right?"

Cas is smiling now. "Right."

"Yeah. And we can be whatever  _we_ want to be. I'll be a mechanic, and you can be a professional nerd or whatever. We'll rent some fleapit apartment and live off bread and water. Sammy can come too. It'll be fucking awesome, okay? You with me?"

With a breathy laugh, Cas nods. "I'm with you, Dean."

"Damn straight."

And, just because he can now, Dean leans over and kisses him again.

\-----

When Sonny makes his check on the boys that night before he turns in, he finds Dean's bed empty. Shaking his head and vowing for the hundredth time to put a better lock on that damn window, he tiptoes down to Castiel's bed expecting it to be in the same state. 

It isn't. 

There are, in fact, two bodies under the blankets rather than one. Dean and Castiel are curled together like parentheses, foreheads touching and arms resting over each other's sides. 

Huh. That's new.

To be honest, he's just pretty damn relieved that they're both in their PJs, and smiles when he notices Dean's hand twisted up in the back of Castiel's shirt. 

They're gonna have to be reprimanded in the morning, of course. Fully-clothed they may be, there are still other children in this room with them, even if Castiel's bed being at the end of the row does offer them a bit more seclusion. 

_Technically_ , Sonny should wake them now. Separate them. Give them 'the talk'. And boy, that's going to be fun. But... he can't quite bring himself to. 

So he huffs a laugh, shakes his head because these damn kids have made him soft, and slips quietly from the room. The door creaks as he softly closes it behind him, but Dean and Cas sleep on undisturbed.


End file.
